


i would let you if you asked me

by crooked



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-29
Updated: 2010-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked/pseuds/crooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sirius Black shows up at your window in the middle of the night, you really have no choice but to go with him. (Remus' POV, 2nd person.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i would let you if you asked me

**Author's Note:**

> [original post](http://crooked.livejournal.com/240582.html) @ livejournal.

The night air is cold, but you don't feel the chill as you run beside him. Your adrenaline is too high, blood pumping like thunder through your veins, body hot. At first you don't remember what even led you here, hopping fences between yards, dodging the overweight policeman who is struggling to keep up with the two of you.

And then you remember, clear as the nighttime sky above: the way he framed himself in your window, how your name slipped off his lips as he pleaded with you, the devilish look in his eyes when he realised he had you on the hook, and his easy grin as he grabbed your hand and reeled you in.

He grabs your hand again now, pulling you along at his pace, breaking out of the bushes you'd ducked into and running out into the alley. The policeman's shouts are far away, the barking of the neighbourhood dogs all but drowning him out, but he doesn't stop running. You have no choice but to keep pace, your fingers still twined in a tight grip.

It's not the first time you've held hands. He's done it before, pulling you (always pulling you) into a dark crevice between the wall and a bookshelf in the library, stealing a taste off your lips. But you don't react, too shocked to even think properly, so he thinks you're not interested. He never tries it again, and he acts like nothing has changed between the two of you.

So that's why you're standing with him beside a canal, underneath the moonless sky, the rush making you feel as wild as if it were a full moon.

_Come on, Moony_, he says, and he's stripping down to his pants before you know it. You blush but you don't look away, and your hands seem to move of their own accord as you undress too. He dives into the water, cutting through the glassy surface with little splash. You stand on the banks for a moment, watching him as he comes up for air, his eyes immediately finding you and a bright grin flashed in your direction.

You know the water is freezing before it touches your skin, and it takes your breath away when you jump in. He swims over to you, wading beside you and your knees almost knock he's so close. For a moment, it feels just like it did in that moment before he kissed you in the library. You look at the way his hair is slicked back from the water, droplets glistening on his eyelashes and his lips, his pale English boy skin almost glowing in the dim light from a lamppost a few metres away. Beneath the surface you feel the water around your fingertips swirl, and you know he's almost reached for your hand again.

A shout suddenly sounds from the near distance, and the two of you jerk apart, a blush erupting over the bridge of your nose as if guilty of something. You look up and see the policeman huffing and puffing his way toward the canal. You don't have to say a word; he's already swimming toward the opposite bank, urging you to follow.

The two of you scramble onto the bank, laughing as you take off running once more, your trousers left by the canal. You don't stop again until you get back to your house, hands clamped over your mouths as you climb back into your window. He borrows pyjamas that are just a bit too short and too tight, but neither of you care as you climb into your bed, exhausted from your midnight escapades.

You lay side-by-side in the darkened room, listening to him breath and wondering if he's doing the same. Your ankles, shoulders, thighs brush together the tiniest bit as he shifts to get comfortable, and then you're left with a sliver of mattress separating you. Your hand slips into that space and you close your eyes, feeling his hand fall between your bodies as well. Just like in the water, you can feel him almost touch you but not quite.

But if somehow your fingers do touch in the middle of the night — well, that's okay too.


End file.
